The Masquerade
by Mereel Skirata
Summary: Admist a time of change, war, betrayal and deception, can two people bridge the gap between them and find love. Quick one shot, maybe leading to something more. Ashe x Penelo


The Masquerade

Final Fantasy XII

Ashe x Penelo

Contains hints of Yuri. Stay away if you don't like.

Final Fantasy and all related characters/concepts are property of Square Enix, not me. I am making no money from this. It's just for fun.

This story belongs to me, Mereel Skirata.

* * *

I can't believe I standing here, right in front of the royal palace of Rabanaster. I've seen it many times, of course. How could I not have, given all the years I lived in this city, yet I've never been this close to it. It dominates the skyline, no matter where you are, from the Muthru Bazaar or right across town at the North Gate.  
The walls, the white stone stained red by the rapidly sinking late evening sun, stretch high above me, reaching almost to the sky. At least, it seems like it.  
Banners line the outside, proudly displaying the crest of the Dalmasca family, moving slowly in the breeze.  
I can see small figures moving around on the turrets and balconies above me. The view from there must be amazing. Maybe I'll get a chance to see it.

Normally, I wouldn't even be allowed inside the gates, but tonight is the birthday of the heir to the Dalmascan line, Princess Ashelia B'nargin Dalmasca. She's turning 18 tonight and as such comes of age, assuming her responsibilities to the state. It is very important event. All of the civic leaders and a collection of other notable individuals are invited.  
Not that I was invited personally, but Migelo, the man I've come to think of as my father and one of the cities most prominent and successful merchants is high on that list. And he invited me as his guest.

My nerves are increasing, the closer we get to the massive doors that usually seal off the castle. Tonight however, they are wide open, sounds of music and conversation floating out to reach my ears. Whether from the balconies above or the hallway straight ahead, I can't tell. Two guards in full ceremonial armour are standing to attention, one on either side of the archway. One hand is ramrod straight at their sides, while the other grips the hilt of their swords.

Self-consciously I run a hand down over the skirt of the dress that Migelo brought me especially for this evening, smoothing out the wrinkles I believe to be there, bending down so that I can reach all the way down to my feet. It came all the way from Archades, made of the finest silks that the empire can produce. The material is a light blue, shimmering as the light catches it. A shawl of the same material is looped over my arms, running around my back. The dress is sleeveless and high cut, leaving my neck exposed.

My hair is done in my usual style. But then, with hair as short as mine, there is not much that can be done with it. It is neat at least, no loose strands to be disturbed by the wind.

Migelo smiles, placing a hand reassuringly on my shoulder.

"Stop fussing, my dear. You look perfect."

That's easy for him to say. He is used to this. He is a semi frequent visitor here, what with his membership on the merchant council. I think he's stopped counting the number of times he's met with King Raminas, or his wife.

And it is easier for a Banga to dress smartly. He has chosen a waist coat and trousers of a heavy black leather. Plain and undecorated, all the embellishment comes from his deep blue scales, specially cleaned and polished for tonight, as well as the small gold rings that adorn his pierced ears. He smiles again, his long snout opening to reveal his impressive white team, as he walks up to the two guards.

"Ahh, Wedge, Biggs. How does this evening find you, my friends?"

One of the guards shrugs. His armour clinking, as the movement of his body causes the shoulder pauldrons to shift against his chest plate. "Well, we're stuck out here. Freezing our backsides off, while everyone else is guarding a nice warm ballroom, filled with the finest food, drink and women from all over Ivalice."

His companion chimes in.

"Ahh, stop complaining. It's a nice night, the stars are out. And you wouldn't be able to enjoy that fine food, drink or women. You'd just be able to look at them."

"That s more than I can do at the moment. And who knows, maybe some young beauty will take a shine to me. I do cut quite a dashing figure in this armour, you know."

Leaving them to their bickering, I allow Migelo to take my arm, leading me into the palace.  
The hallway before us is equally ornate as the outside.

What would be considered cold stone walls have been made more welcoming by the addition of heavy drapes and thick carpets, in a wide array of bright colours, mostly red and yellow, but with the odd flash of orange or brown through in. The warm atmosphere is made more so by the large torches mounted in impressive stone sconces that line the corridor. They are a necessity because the twilight that creeps in from outside is insufficient to provide enough light to see by. They serve another purpose as well, lighting the way to the ballroom where the festivities are being held.

So, upon the directions of a steward waiting at the foot of the stairs to direct newly arrived guests, we proceed to follow the trail of flickering flames. The other hallways we pass are pitch black, any doors leading off this one shut and securely locked, I'd guess. Any member of the palace staff or household would have to be provided with a handheld torch or maybe a small nethercite lantern.  
Recent developments in this special stones have created a variety that actually gives off visible light, if exposed to a certain mixture of other chemicals. Another development from the Empire's Draklor Laboratory, which has just begun to arrive in Rabanaster.

As we draw nearer, the sounds I had heard from outside, those usual to a large gathering of people in one room, become more distinct, allowing me to pick out individual voices. But not what is being said. The music is still loud enough to drown that out. It isn't loud enough to hide the sounds that I can suddenly hear behind us.  
The sounds of many footsteps, a large group of people rapidly approaching.

We both turn, stepping back instinctively as we catch sight of them. Even if the figure in the centre of this group had been absent, they would still have been an intimidating entourage. Dressed as they are in armour bright and polished, with sigils and symbols cast in deep red marks, covered by long cloaks that are ebony, as black as night.  
Heavy metal gauntlets and boots are clearly visible as they walk. That is the source of the sound we heard.

But the man in the centre is as imposing, if not more so, as all of them. He has an aristocratic face, framed by long flowing black hair. His eyes are keen, bright and full of intelligence. On the surface, he seems kind and beneficent. But, he also has the look of someone who is used to being obeyed, without question.

That presence isn't hurt by his choice of attire. Loose flowing white shirt, with ruffled sleeves and plain viridian trousers. Over the shirt is another, which only covers his chest, made of what looks like scales. Bright green scales. I don't want to think what creature gave them up to make it.

Yet, he wears them like a military uniform. With pride.  
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Migelo freeze as he lays eyes on this party. My eyes, however, are drawn to and follow the young boy trailing behind them. He has the same facial features as the leader of the group. His younger brother, maybe? He could be his son, I suppose.  
I can feel his gaze slide over us, like we aren't even there. Then he Is gone.  
He waits until they are well out of earshot, before he speaks, even then he speaks very quietly. So much so, that I can't make out what he said. But he does look worried.

"Migelo? Are you okay? Who was that?"

He takes a deep breath before he speaks.

"I knew the Empire would send someone, but I didn't think it would be him. That was Vayne Solidor. He has a lot of influence within the Empire, especially for someone who has no standing within its military. Yet, his family have many connections. Some say he had the ear of the Archadian Emperor himself. And those with him, they must have been Judges."

"Judges? Who are the Judges?"

"The iron hand of the Empire. They lead the military. They pass down judgement on any of its citizens that step out of line. Penelo my dear, pray you never get closer to a Judge than you just did."

Taking his words to heart, I follow him into the ballroom.

As soon as we enter, we are approached by two figures. I see the crowns on their heads and my rational mind sort of shuts down.  
All I can think is that this is King Raminas and his wife. This is the King and Queen of Rabanaster. My mind snaps back to now, as I hear Migelo mention my name. Guessing that I have just been introduced, I bow deeply.

"Pleased to meet you, your Majesties."

Luckily, after that, the conversation turns away from me. Not that they are ignoring me. But I get the feeling that they knew that they made me uncomfortable, so they moved the conversation onto something I have an interest in, yet do not need to actively take a roll in. Namely, the progress of Migelo's business and by extension of that, the state of Rabanaster's economy.

"So, where is your charming daughter? I don't think I have seen her yet tonight."

The king smiled indulgently.

"She is still getting ready. She wanted to look her best for tonight. She said she would be here for the start of the masquerade."

The masquerade. That is what I have been looking forward to. It is a dance. Everyone gets given a mask, stylised into the likeness of a creature or famous figure, sometimes on from mythology or history.

Of each mask, there are two. And when all the masks have been handed out, the matching pairs must dance together. I've been told that it symbolises the destined meeting of future lovers.

At the corner of the room, I see two courtiers enter, carrying a chest between them. I catch Migelo's eye. He shoots me a little smile, his way of saying 'Go on, then.'

I make my way over, as the courtiers begin handing out the masks. Joining the informal queue I wait until one is pressed into my hand. I can feel the soft feathers covering it against my skin. A Chocobo mask.  
Slipping it on, I scan the room, trying to find the other one. My heart sinks, as I reach the other side. I can't see it anywhere. What happens if no one gets the other of a pair. Do they have to sit it out or.  
Luckily, I don't have to get an answer to that, as a small door on the opposite side to the one we entered from opened, and a figure entered, wearing a bright yellow Chocobo mask. Slightly nervously, I make my way over. The mask fully covers his face, which means I have no way to gauge his feelings about this. But his eyes, visible through the tiny holes just above the beak of the mask, seem kind and welcoming.

He extends his hand to me as I close, leading me out to the centre of the area that had been set aside for the dance. His skin feels soft against mine.  
His long legs adding a natural grace to his stride.

I can feel the other dancers, the other impromptu couples, forming up around us.

The musicians begin to play, a slow, soft waltz. My partner leads, directing me into an equally slow series of steps. I feel the notes and the rhythm swirling around me. Somehow that makes it easier to follow the dance. Like I'm part of the music. I've always had a natural sense of rhythm and timing. My brothers said the same thing. That I should have been a dancer. The music speeds up, the tempo moving faster now. But I can still keep up. I feel a bit strange though. The room is spinning around me, and not because we are circling each other now. I stare into my partner's face, trying to steady myself. But all I can see is his eyes. Somehow, that makes it worse. I feel lightheaded looking into them, somehow. My partner senses this, pulling my head into his chest. I can feel the soft crushed velvet of his jacket against my cheek, the raised lines forming patterns of flowers making indentations in my flesh. He slows his speed, holding me closer to him, my body firmly pressed to his, as he supports me.  
Something feels strange, but I can t put my finger on it. Like I ve realised something about him, or should have. But my head is spinning so fast now, my heart pounding in my chest, that I can't focus. My mothers necklace, the blue crystal she always used to wear, feels so warm against my skin. Or maybe my skin is just cold.  
Disconnectedly, I realise the first dance is over. Yet he hasn't released his comforting grip on me. And we are still moving. Not dancing though. Walking. He is leading me somewhere.

I feel cool air wash over me, over my bare arms. Not on my face, thought. I'm still wearing the Chocobo mask. He leads me to the balcony, resting my arms on the parapet. The cool air and the open vista of Rabanaster stretching out in front of me, both help me to feel more steady. My head is still spinning, but not as much as it was. The mask is pulled off my head slowly.  
I find myself looking at a woman, her hair as short as mine, but a few shades lighter.  
For a second I'm confused, looking around to see where my dance partner had gone. Then I realise that she is wearing the same clothes.  
Looking closer now, I can see the swell of her chest that is a dead giveaway, now that she has opened the jacket.

She leans on the balcony next to me, her arms resting in the same position as mine.  
She looks a little uncomfortable. I look out at the view, my head feeling more normal. The rapid beating of my heart slowing back down. The view is as spectacular as I imagined. All the little lights of the houses stretching out like a field of stars, mirroring the one over head.

"Does it bother you that I deceived you into thinking I was a man?"

"No. Why did you, though?"  
I keep my voice soft, letting her know it didn't upset me. I'm curious, is all.

She signs, a long, hard expulsion of breath, as if she is forcing away frustration or anger.  
"Whenever I appear at one of these functions, everyone is always watching me. This is just my way of escaping all of that. Of not being me for a while."

She leans out a little further over the balcony, taking in the whole vista of Rabanaster before us. Her eyes seem vaguely wistful, full of a deep longing.

"Sometimes, I envy the people down there. The freedom they have. The choices they are free to make. But I have only seen it from up here in the Palace."

"Then why not go down and see it? Just take a walk around. You can't only look at things from afar. Sometimes, you have to look at them up close."

She stares at me, as if she had never considered the idea.

"Do you think it would be possible for me to do that?"

That question seems so strange to me. "Of course. Of course you can. I mean, why not,"

She takes my hands in hers suddenly. Her skin seems even softer this time.

"Thank you. May I ask your name?"

"Penelo. My name is Penelo."

"Thank you, Penelo. My name is Ashe. Maybe...."

Whatever she had been going to say, I never did find out, because we are interrupted by a tall man, his gold hair cropped short against his head.

"My lady. Forgive the intrusion, but your parents are wanting to speak with you urgently."

She turns, her expression which had been so relaxed, now seems to carry such a heavy burden, her voice suddenly stiff.

"Thank you, captain. I will be there shortly."

"Forgive me again, but they wish you to come immediately. If you would follow me, Princess."

"Very well. Please excuse me, Penelo."

My mind starts to work, as she walks away. 'Princess? Why would a princess talk to a commoner like me? For that matter, why would a princess feel the need to hide herself at a Royal occasion? Not that I know a Princess...Ashe... Princess Ashe? Ashelia B'nargin Dalmasca. It couldn't be, could it?'

I step back into the palace, the air a little warm given the time I spent outside.  
Back in the ballroom, I look around, trying to catch a glimpse of her. But with the crowds, I can't see her anywhere. Of course, if she is the princess, then she could be in another room, talking with the king and queen.

I take one last look, before working my way through the tightly packed groups, hoping to see her. Or Migelo. He might have seen where they went.

Just as I find him, the musicians fall silent, there soft melodies replaced by a loud fanfare. All of the conversations stop instantly, everyone turning towards the source. The King and Queen are standing on a raised dais, a young girl behind and to the left of them. Her clothes are different, replaced by a plain white dress, but I am sure that is her. Standing next to her, a young man with an open, smiling face.

The King speaks.  
"Welcome, one and all. For today is the birthday of our one and only daughter. It is a joyous day, not just for her, but for the whole kingdom. For today, she takes the first step in securing it's, and your, future. It is with great pleasure that I announce that Princess Ashelia B'nargin Dalmasca will marry the young Prince Rastler."  
Applause fills the room, as well as many cheers, following this announcement. I see the young man, Prince Rastler I assume, takes her hand, giving it a quick squeeze. I know I've only known her a short time, but she doesn't seem to happy about that.

The evening passes with Ashe and her betrothed being dragged around the room, receiving congratulations from everyone.  
She eventually makes her way to us, allowing us to offer ours. As Migelo discusses the implications for trade with Rastler's nation with her parents, she catches my eye. Whether she had sought me out, or it was just an accident I don't know. But what I do know, is that she definitely doesn't seem happy. The concerns I saw on her face earlier seem more pronounced now.  
As she walks away though, her face has returned to an relaxed expression. Or it might be more accurate to say she has forced it to be that way.

A few more hours pass, during which I follow Migelo around, being introduced to a long string of people that I quickly lose track of. No wonder, really. My mind is still focused on my meeting with the Princess. She has such concerns, concerns for her subject s maybe, or concerns about her marriage? I don't know. But I wish I could do something, something to easy her burden. Surely a citizen should be able to help the Princess, just as the Princess would help a citizen? But, things don't work like that. I'm not likely to see her again. She's probably already forgotten me.

END

* * *

Okay. Just a quick story I fired out.  
I have another chapter planned, so if you liked this, let me know and I will plough on with it.

As usual, constructive criticisms and comments are welcome, along with general praise.  
I like praise, it keeps my muse alive.


End file.
